Song-goose
by Hawki
Summary: Archieverse Oneshot: "Just sing." It was the advice that Buster had given decades ago. Now, in the aftermath of the xorda attack on Mobius, he had that same advice for Mina.


**Song-goose**

Sonic was dead.

The words turned over and over in her mind, like the spin-dash the hedgehog had been known for. Dead, gone, not buried, given that the quantum dial had left nothing but a crater in the South Tundra. There was a statue to Sonic in Knothole now, but Mina wondered if the crater might be the better monument. That crater would be there for millennia, while the statue could be gone in less than a year, if Eggman had his way. Maybe millennia from now, if the xorda came to this world a third time, the crater would still be there. Life on Mobius, or Earth, or whatever it was called, could defeat them again, in the knowledge that one hedgehog had done it thousands of years before.

She kept walking, basket under one arm, her left hand twitching in her pocket. That was false, she reflected – Sonic had destroyed the quantum dial, but he hadn't been the only one on the South Tundra. At the time, it had felt like everyone on Mobius had been there. "War made strange bedfellows," as the saying went. Now, it was more "Eggman is a backstabbing bastard who's making war across the world, and despite what King Acorn says, we're losing."

So she kept walking through Knothole, delivering food parcels to the elderly. People who had lived through the Great War, Robotnik's takeover, the war "Robotnik 2.0" had waged on the world, and now, a war by the same Robotnik who now called himself "Eggman," in a bid to distinguish himself from his predecessor. An innocuous name for someone so vile. She kept walking, and didn't run, as using her super speed at all felt…dirty, somehow. Sonic had been the fastest thing alive. She'd never been able to come close. She couldn't help but feel like she was dishonouring his memory by even trying.

 _And am I honouring his memory now?_ She wondered, as she knocked on the door of one of her patrons. She heard the sound of shuffling footsteps, and asked herself, _what_ am _I doing anyway?_

"Ah, Mina!"

She forced a smile as the door opened, and she found herself looking down on the face of an elderly koala. Buster Moon. Many times her senior, many times shorter than her, many times more happy nowadays than she was.

"Hello, Mister Moon," she said, still forcing a smile. She fished out a food parcel from her basket. "Eucalypt sandwich, followed by-"

"Come in, come in," he said, gesturing towards her. "I just put the billiy on."

Smile still being forced, Mina followed him in. It would be rude to turn away, and if need be, as much as she disliked running now, she could make up for lost time by using her speed to get to her next delivery. Hopefully. Buster Moon was many things, and a chatterbox was among them.

"Milk? Sugar?"

"Ah, just water, thanks," Mina said. She put the food parcel on Buster's table, and looked around the room. Small, simple, functional – like every home in Knothole.

"Ah, you've got no taste!" Buster called out from the "billy" (or, as most people called it, the kettle). "Well, you'll grow into it."

"Yeah, sure. Provided I'm not roboticized first."

"What?" he called out.

"Oh, nothing," Mina murmured. She took a seat, and accepted the cup of water.

As she'd reflected before, Buster Moon was many things. Not only a chatterbox, but a former theatre owner. The Moon Theatre. Actually, two buildings had borne the name of "Moon Theatre," the first of which had come crashing down due to structural deficiencies, the second of which had been rebuilt in its image. The second had succeeded where the first failed. Succeeded through the Great War even, as mobians sought an escape from the conflict. Escaped right up to the moment when Robotnik showed his true colours and conquered the city, destroying the Moon Theatre (and so many other landmarks) in the process.

"How's your tea?" Buster asked.

"Fine," Mina said softly. "Fine."

It wasn't tea, but she didn't tell him. Buster Moon had survived all of that, but he was old, and that had affected not only his stature, but his mind as well. Sometimes, when he called her "Mina," she sometimes felt like he was talking to someone else. An elephant of some kind, one who could also sing.

"Well," Mina said, putting down her water. "It's been nice, but I-"

"So tell me, how's your singing going?"

If water had still been in her mouth, Mina would have spat it out. "What?"

"Your singing," Buster repeated. "I mean, you saw Ash last week, didn't you?"

"Um…" Mina trailed off. Yes, she did know a mongoose named Ash, but was this the same Ash, or-

"And Johnny…oh Johnny…I miss Johnny…"

Who "Johnny" was though, she had no idea.

"I…" Buster cleaned his glasses. "I mean, the Knothole Knuts. Yes, the Knuts." He sighed. "How silly of me."

Mina remained silent, but only for a moment. She didn't want to interrupt Buster's memories of better times, but-

"So, anyway, your singing," he said. "I heard you in your first concert, but-"

"Buster, I really have to go."

"-and you sounded terrific,"

"Mister Moon…"

"…almost as good as-"

"Buster, I don't sing anymore!"

The words hung there in the room, making the air heavy. Mina was on her feet, Buster still seated. It was the look in his eyes that hurt the most. But still, better a harsh truth than a good lie. She'd lived a lie right up to the moment when she took the bullet for Sally. She was quite good at facing the truth now.

"I don't sing," Mina repeated. "Not since…since…"

"Since the xorda?"

She nodded. Her words were originally "since Sonic died," but she preferred Buster's alternative. Sonic's death had left her heartbroken, but the same could have been said of many other people. Many people who had known Sonic longer, who had cared for Sonic more, and in the case of one particular individual, a person who had loved him, and been loved back. She'd learnt that before the xorda, and now, thinking of Sonic, she felt… _dirty_.

"Can I ask why?" Buster asked.

Mina shrugged. "I…I guess…heck, I dunno. Eggman's waging a war on us, I think I have better things to do than sing."

"But you sing excellently," Buster said. He got to his feet, and walked over to a cupboard. "I mean, twenty years ago, when the Moon Theatre was still up-"

"Buster, I'm not her."

He looked at her slowly, before rubbing his glasses. "I know that," he whispered. "I don't always know that, but…I know it. You're not Ash, or Johnny, or any of the others. You're not even Meena Elephant."

Mina remained silent.

"But you're Mina Mongoose, and yes, Mina, you can sing," he said. He opened the cupboard, and took out a vinyl record. "Here," he said. "I want you to have it."

"Mister Moon-"

"This is a recording of the concert that was given before I got the grant for the new Moon Theatre," he said. "It was given by people who'd never sung in front of an audience in their lives-"

"Mister Moon-"

"And they sung, damn it, they sung," Buster said. "They sung, not just because they were good at it, but because they loved it." He thrust the record into her hands. "I want you to listen to it, Mina. Listen to it, take inspiration from it, and realize you're just as good as them."

"But…" She sighed. "Mister Moon-"

"Buster."

" _Buster_ ," she said, exasperated. "I…I can't."

"Can't? Or won't?"

"Can't," she repeated, desperate to just get out of the house. "I mean, there's a war on, and-"

"All the more reason to give the people an escape from it," he said. "I mean, have I told you of the crowds the Moon Theatre drew in during the Great War? Thousands of them, thousands. Seats filled, row after row." He gave her a prod to the chest. "You could do the same, you know. With practice, determination, and yes, heart."

"I…" She sighed. "Buster-"

"Answer me this," Buster said. "I'm going to ask you what I asked another person decades ago – do you like to sing?"

Mina blinked – "what?"

"Do you like to sing?" he repeated.

"I…" She trailed off. Thinking of the first, and so far only, concert that she gave. The one that Sonic had set up for her, after she failed as a Freedom Fighter. The one she'd given not long before Sally had been kidnapped, and her whole world had come crashing down. The one that she'd…she'd…

"Yes," she said, thinking of the moment when it had all come together. "Yes, I…did, enjoy it."

"Then just sing," Buster said. He began hobbling over to a chair – not at the table, but rather a large, plush one. One large enough to sleep in, as well as sit. "Just sing…"

Mina watched him get into it, and decided it was time to leave. She wanted to ask if that was the same advice he had given to the people he'd known all those years ago. If any of them were still alive. If, when he saw her, if he actually _saw_ her.

But she didn't. Instead, she pulled a blanket over the sleeping koala, and turned the billy off. After that, she left the house, making a note to close the door as silently as possible.

As well as making a note that maybe, just maybe, Buster had a point.


End file.
